-1709 Military Hours, 50th day of Summer
-Drossal, Airfleet Garrison

The afternoon blazes onwards, the steady rhythm of progress all around never once relenting. Ample caches of foodstuff and water, neatly stationed up along the landstrips, shielded from theft by imposing custodians. With eyes seeming to glimmer beneath full cover helms, they regard all that surrounds them with unwavering focus.

My scouting group it seemed, is no exception. Even after our efforts here since the call of dawn, they remain vigillant.

Passing by the silent guardians, the aching sensation of my arms brings me back to the task at hand, joining the others in their journey towards the resting flock of heavily armored Broadwings. A hefty package, encased in an enclosure of thin metal, its edges annoyingly biting into my palms with each step towards the esteemed dragons.

Despite the discomfort, it is of little value to my mind. Especially with the reasons I find myself woven into.

"To think we are among the chosen for this endeavor," I mutter, earning the attention of my fellow scouts, "it would almost seem like an intervention from beyond." Only a mere three days has passed, and yet I find myself destined to visit the human stronghold once again. It will be a quest to seek knowledge, just like before, but more.

I decide to muse further, thoughts centered on my encounters with their warriors. The fleeting memories leave me wondering, urging curiosity to take root as the jaded image of a certain black knight crosses my vision.

"Yhunian Rangers still prowl along the four supply routes," Oswin remarks beside me, lingering frown etched on his lips, "...not unthinkable for the commanders to task the 1st and 3rd Scouting Regiments to hunt them down. They're anything but easy prey, naturally that leaves only us from the 4th to take up this mantle."

Regarding his words with a nod, I relieve my arms of their burden having reached our destination. Sweat clings to my skin, parched throat yearning for a well deserved drink as I place the final crate onto the ground, all in the name of assisting the warrior servants.

"It's not what I meant." I anchor my sights on the odd aerial constructs the humans use to master the skies, tracing their menacing carapace of plated black.

Crafted for solely for battle as I am told, they lie motionless in the safety of our Airfleet's eastern garrison, protected by regular human warriors.

Intrigue gathering in her eyes, Sephra nudges against me, "Were you hoping to meet that particular warrior again, the one you healed back in Norsera?" A hint of a teasing tone borders her voice, the Life Mender an advocate of suspecting my heart being enthralled by that human.

Perhaps that may be the case, had I not been promised to my beloved back home. So long as his pendant surrounds my neck, none will take away my affections for him.

Seeing no reason to harbor lies against my battle brothers and sisters, I answer truthfully. "More like expecting, our teams cross paths more times for me to call it simple chance."

Only twice have I seen his face unmasked. And only once has he given me his name, Jerome.

Like our Seeker, we are one of the numbered few that have come to be somewhat familiar with the humans' warriors. It is this key fact that makes us the most appropriate for this quest out of our distinguished Regiment.

Perhaps if fate deems it necessary, I will once again meet that mysterious human Knight. Questions linger on, and its answers?

Only Jerome can provide.

"It does seem suspicious, yes," Sephra comments, tone no longer having a suggestive edge, but rather a thoughtful one as she reflects on the past.

A tense silence between us takes root shortly after.

Moving a rouge strand of silvery hair behind my ears, I fold my arms and take a moment to appreciate the scene before me.

Brightly, the Euralian emblem glimmers atop the resting pole in the centre of the Airfleet Garrison. Beneath the symbol of the kingdom lies a massive Silverwing monument, crafted to perfection with the species' pride and tenacity in mind.

The ancient monument stood in a timeless stance, its rider a faceless Flightwing Lancer thrusting her spear ahead, defiantly challenging an unseen enemy in a show of ferocity, urging her trusted mount to leap into the fray of combat.

Few, if any stop to regard the monument with anything more than a passing glance. Brood caretakers worked as they did prior to the war, seeing to the needs of the young Silverwings under the protective eye of their mothers.

I watch as one cradles a newly hatched Silverwing closely to her chest, cooing softly as the youngling's clawless feet drag harmlessly against her dressing, a tender expression on her face as she lulls it to sleep as if it were her own.

A smile was forming on my lips at the adorable sight as I fawn over the little hatchling from a distance. The scene, sparks something within me. There are few absolute truths in life, one of them being that all Silverwing hatchlings are incredibly cute.

Averting my gaze from the garrison's nursery holdings, my eyes trail elsewhere, spotting the officers of the Airfleet garrison overseeing the supplies being fastened onto the expectant Broadwing convoy.

Amidst them, the Airfleet Captain stands with his hands latched behind him, not apart of their idle conversations with his sealed lips and attentive eyes anchored forward. With the ongoing campaign against Yhunia, he is someone I would not expect to see here.

"We are done, let's go" I retrain my focus back to those beside me, eying my compatriots, "already I can sense our Seeker's brimming impatience."

A deep grumble travels through the air shortly after I finish, prompting my legs to begin the journey towards the woman and her disgruntled dragon. Its knowing eyes centers its gaze on me, noting my approaching presence with ease.

In the name of caution, Oswin places a careful distance between him and the dragon. "Your Broadwing seems more troubled than before."

"Astel is restless, she doesn't do well with so many of her kin close by," the Seeker spares me an apologetic glance as she caresses her dragon's scaly hide with a thoughtful look. "...as do I when I stop to ponder of it."

She gestures towards the others of the convey, their layered glass eyewear and northern-style tunics marking them all as riders of the Freighter Wing Companies. "They soar to ferry goods, while I do so to reach the frontiers. We have little in common for talk unfortunately."

Remaining silent to think, I use the respite to grasp the reasoning behind the Seeker's words. When faced with a contrast as strong as night against day, it is only natural to feel reluctant to proceed.

"Whatever the tide, your wait won't be long now," I whisper, deciding to place a gentle hand on her Broadwing's snout to calm it. My fingers feel the warmth from its skin as I meet the creature's remarkable eyes with my own, trapped in its intelligent gaze.

I want it to know its time will be soon, that the evenings will be when she will be able to glide along the clouds. To spread her wings wide and soar undaunted, with the wind and the taste of freedom at her behest.

Hearing the warrior servants declare their final touches to the officers, Oswin walks up beside me, facing the personal Seeker of Princess Luculia. "The convey is ready to proceed at the very least, all of the supplies are accounted for. We only wait for word on the humans' flightwing liaison so we can begin."

"I am well aware," Myandra responds with a roll of her eyes, "you must realize I can see right?"

"Of course." Oswin responds, not offended in the slightest. I conceal my growing smile by facing away, leaving the pair to their own.

My eyes sweep around to note the departing guards and warrior servants around the landstrips. All that is left are those that will be journeying to the Fredgal Alps.

Broadwings and their riders savour the final moments before taking flight, the latter can be seen making certain their supplies are properly secured. These are followed by the surveyor team sharing a single Broading, the dragon hefting a fair amount of books and scripts, tasked to solving the cryptic purpose of the Rift from which the humans came from.

They are undoubtedly the best minds the fortress city could muster in the short time it had. And it showed through their eyes, looking like they hold the secrets of a hundred campaigns.

Including us and the Seeker, the convey represented the Euralian identity and spirit. It made for quite a prideful sight, to see all doing as duty dictates.

"They've given the green light, all Jaguars sound off...."

Out of the ocean's blue, a high-pitched whine resonates in the distance. It came from a human rider and his mount, its bladed wings swirling to motion. The rest of his kin follows suit, breathing life anew onto their constructs.

My cape falls prey to the constant airstream, fluttering about with no remorse. I grab hold of the frayed silk edges, noting to a broader extent, even the humans and their mounts added to our calling, imparting an interesting flair to our mix with their odd sense of professionalism and language.

Sephra anchors her sights on the captain as he speaks to his officers, the finality on his expression could mean only one thing.

"It's time to leave," she says to the rest of us, helmet on to defend her silvery mane against the airstream. I did so a moment later, enclosing my own within the ornate steel of my helm.

This setting will soon be gone, cemented in the past as we depart south towards the human fortress. With the order given by the Captain, we are soon up and away.

"Astel to the air!" Her Broadwing happily obliges, taking us closer to the clouds with each flap.

Our dragons had a natural grace with their wings, whilst our counterparts had none of that. The human flightwing hovers straight up before their riders direct their constructs to tilt ahead, flaunting their menacing ability to track and hunt any prey by easily catching up to the convoy.

All around, the Broadwings offered the lifeless constructs their uneasy tolerence, marking the unnatural contraptions as would-be predators.

A thought occurs to me as I glance at them, all four of them. They have no need for food, so what is it that sustains them? The impossible question leaves me little choice but to discard it, and so I did, my attention back to the front.

We glide low across the rooftops and streets, the people becoming mere specks as the flock climbs further into the clouds. Assuming their defensive roles within the convoy, the human flightwing thunders protectively around the dragons, like hornets protecting their hive.

It is ironic to think of it that way, given we are indeed heading into their hive, the seat of their presence in our world. All in the name of aid and a thirst for answers, we find ourselves thrust into the Fredgal Alps.

We fly past the city's heavily reinforced walls, far above the heads of its tallest watchtowers. Over the shoulders of my comrades, I watch as the ancient monuments of defense disappears over the horizon.

Emptiness fills me as the last visible traces of the city fades away. This is not my home, and yet I've grown fond to be of it.

With a sad smile to anchor my lips, I look forward, out into the far open and beyond.

======
-1851 Military Hours
-Fredgal Alps, Northern Border

Rolling hills, carved horizons of rock, it is all as I remembered. Even from the air, I could trace the path my scouting group took for our previous quest here.

There is little in the way of precious materials and crystals this far south of the continent, only the verdant expanse of nature came to greet our presence. We are the first Euralians to pass over these lands in hundreds of seasons, the footsteps of our ancestors who marched here, should have long since vanished.

That was in a different time, its importance left only to historians and little else. One day... eventually, I will be like them.

"Slowly fading away." I end the thought as a whisper, allowing the wind to whisk my feelings away. Life is never endless, but it is still the greatest gift one could ever hope for.

The evening sky further settles down to a dying orange, the dragons having long since formed a natural flock along one another. Gold-coloured clouds float aimlessly all around, casting a beautiful hue similar to that of the setting sun.

A sharp contrast to the still golden sky, the human flightwing continues their vigil over us. They are always within sight, their darkened carapace too distinct to be ignored even on the borders of my vision.

Their presence although certainly out of place, is a welcome one. It meant we were safe from raids and attacks by wild Silverwing packs.

They cover us with an aura of safety, allowing a discussion to settle amongst my comrades. Light hearted topics are thrown about, before it eventually centers around a peculiar person.

"...if nothing else, he exudes a silent confidence on a level I've never thought was possible," Myandra recalls her most recent experience with the humans, finger to her chin in deep thought. "So yes, we definitely met the same person. No one else but him and his team would be so adverse in revealing their faces."

"I could never quite comprehend why they would do so." It has to be stifling to be without fresh air for days on end. The thought is admittedly frightening to even consider. As mother once said, hair is a woman's crown. I would never let mine be unkempt even out on missions to the wilderness.

"Maybe they just see no reason to remove them. Their helm design is well crafted, so it may be a source of pride for them to don it," Oswin begrudgingly says, "...either that or it is a scare tactic for the enemy. Few would desire to face an opponent who's face is kept unseen."

With her back resting against the seat Myandra tightens her posture, knees timidly drawn up to her chest. In the short time I have known her, the woman before me never seemed as conflicted as she does now. I just did not know what to make of it.

"I certainly wish they had, him in particular." Her eyes display indifference, but her words showed otherwise. Of hidden thoughts resting just beneath the water.

"Why is that?" I ask, slightly interested on what does the Seeker have to say about their leader.

"He's not that dissimilar from how a Black Hand warrior would act. But he's not like them. The exact words escape me... but I can see he is a gentle spark, in spite of what his facade would have you believe in."

I lean forward, casting a strong look to the Seeker. Her face, shadowed from looks with her helmet, did not do much to hide her tone.

"And?" I prompt her to continue on, even if I already have a hint on what it may be leading to. The Seeker harboring affections for Jerome, it made as much sense as a wave riding on land, but I won't discard it as an impossibility.

To my surprise, and disappointment, Myandra shields her answer with a dismissive hand. "...nevermind that, it shouldn't concern our quest."

"If it's your wish to refrain from sharing, I understand fully," Sephra calmly breaks the dull silence, eyes welcoming the approach of the stars. "The... night is fresh, just like our assignment. I still wonder whether the humans will welcome us with gratitude."

I look over the Life Mender's shoulder, watching the human flightwing soar along us Euralians like trusted allies and more.

'Protectors.' My mind conjours only that single word, a simple reflection of how I viewed them in its purest form.

Newfound clarity washes over my vision as I stare at the constructs, finally seeing the subtle beauty in their angular forms, vibrant avatars of metal and grace.

"They will." I place a hand on her shoulder, affirming my voice with an unwavering heart. I have to place the past behind, to let it drift away in peace.

'Renai, Gareth.' I'm truly sorry you did not live to see the humans emerge as likely allies. Your blood may have been taken in vain by our former enemy, but your memory will live on in me until the day fate deems my life fulfilled.

Acceptance...

It only comes to those who offer no resistance to the lingering emptiness that settles after grief. Right now, with these parting tears coating my vision I finally understand the truth behind that saying.

Within the confines of my helmet I blink away the thin layer of sadness, finally concluding that event simply as a part of my life. I will move on slowly, but they will always be in my heart.

Like the sun, the sad tale of my departed friends now fall behind in the past. Darkness soon covers the sky, shimmering stars taking the place of lively clouds, a beautiful canvas to set my enchanced eyes on as I dream about my future after all this is over.

The Broadwing veers slightly to the right, letting loose a soft growl in the meantime. "Down ahead, we're almost at their fortress." Myandra points below towards a collection of lights, appearing like glimmering dew upon a hopeful morning.

The distinctive mountain ridge line enclosing the human fortress, is as imposing as it is large. My pulse quickens in anticipation as I lean forward, hands supporting my body with my eyes drawn to the ground beneath.

The daunting visage of unnatural black, it is still here. The Rift, seems as though it was still locked in eternal slumber, ignoring the passage of time... but not change. It was different, smaller.

Definitely smaller...

Further into vale, the convoy begins their descent, closely following the human flightwing on where precisely to land. Now this close, I can make out humans walking about, looking up at us.

In this moment, I would give anything to know what they are thinking. To see a flock of armored Broadwings approaching, carrying the will and spirit of Euralians must be a sight worthy of admiration. It truly is an honor to be part of this endeavor.

With a final thud, we sat down on the land strips, the first to do so out of the whole convey. Around the site of our landing the other Broadwings sweep in for the touch down, wings curling up for rest. Even knowing what is it they will be traveling to, the riders stood in place captivated by the human fortress and the Rift it surrounds.

Adrift in wonderment, they had little regards to give towards the inhabitants of this vale. The humans are in my honest opinion, the ones most worthy of intrigue and focus. And now, their concentrated numbers means I could observe how they live their days whilst we aid them.

Alone with these thoughts, I release the straps holding me to my saddle. "So many of them," I quietly voice out, preparing to dismount the dragon alongside my comrades.

New faces to commit to memory, dressed in attires that were not suited for battle, but for something else entirely. A few of their warriors are present, but none of them were who I secretly wished to see. Jerome, and his band of elites are nowhere to be sighted.

My eyes continue to wonder, until a hand comes to rest on my shoulder. "He should be among them, he was here when I left. There's ample opportunities for you to search for him."

"Only if I can spare the time, the quest comes first." It did not surprise me to know the Seeker caught wave of my thoughts, she definitely senses more than meets the eye.

"In the coming days, we have plenty of that," Sephra remarks as she descends down, a brief glance shared between us as she walks away from me. With my staff in hand, I brace myself to face the call of duty. It is time to do what needs to be done.

Meeting the eyes of several humans, I start with a brief nod to convey my willingness to be here, in their home amidst our world. Deciding to keep my helmet on, I fellow Sephra and the rest to discuss the next course of action here.

The human Emissary waits patiently as Myandra offers her mount some parting words, muttering a promise to return to her as soon as she can. The Seeker quickly catches up to us, standing to my left as she faces the Emissary, surrendering her attention to the senior human figure.

The pendant glows peacefully on his neck as he speaks. "...I can't thank you all enough for coming here. This definitely is a good first impression for the rest of them. As I've already said is the first time they've seen your people in person," Emissary Cooper begins, voice weighted with gratitude.

"I... wasn't expecting this much." Keeping a hand close to my chest, I force down this restless feeling inside of me. The allure of our presence here is like a candle is to a moth, they truly are stricken with fascination.

If this much is all it takes to incite their attention, I have to thank my foresight for keeping my face hidden from view. My looks may not hold a candle to some like the Queen's three daughters, but I consider myself quite the beauty.

Their warriors keep a tight sense of discipline, stoic in their mannerisms, just like him. It is obvious here they care little for looks, only the threat we pose.

I secretly roll my eyes at their expense, sometimes wondering if they could ever find a woman that could endure their bottomless disregard for all things around them. If I could see through their eyes, then maybe I can know why they act as they are.

"Are these our supposed liaisons?" Sephra speaks out amidst my wondering thoughts, gaze centered on a group of approaching humans. Dressed in white coats over a grey apparel, they cast looming shadows against the ground as they walk towards the Freighter Wing riders. Behind them, a pair of warriors follow in their steps, feet in motion with one another.

The Emissary follows her gaze. "They are, communications shouldn't be a problem for them. It's not an overstatement to say they've been working day and night to translate and understand your language."

"Is that so." I avert my gaze away from the spectacle, both hands firmly holding my staff as a gesture of readiness.

They went to great lengths to discern the workings of our tongue, it is only fair to balance the act with equal effort. "Just know my group stands ready to do our part. Being mediators is hardly our purpose, but I see no difficulties in that task."

As long as respect and understanding is given to them, there is little that should halt our stay here. The surveyor team would never forgive us if this is to ever happen, with so much to learn still.

"Glad to hear it, someone will come shortly to show you where you all will be staying. Fifteen in total, including you six right?"

I take the steed before anyone else could, "That is correct." With little reason to stay aside from their intrigue, the Freighter Wing riders would soon leave this place once their supplies are offloaded among the land strips.

Cooper nods with a thoughtful gaze outwards, "Good, hopefully everything can begin tomorrow. We don't have much time, we really don't...."

We follow the Emissary out the landing strips, away from the rest of the convoy. Hands woven together for what awaits me, I find myself looking at a vaguely familiar face. Those peculiar eyes, nose and more paint this person as one I know from memory.

I hold memories of the human being held in the Sachana Encampment, he was one of the two. Looking beside, I cast a knowing gaze towards my comrades, the stern silence between us speaking on our behalf.

The surprise on our eyes keeps us locked from movement as he stops before my group, addressing us without a hint of resentment. "Welcome to our base, normally this is where I'd introduce myself but..."

He stops, regarding me with his eyes as he continues on, "I think we've already met."

Eyes wide with surprise, I reply in a wary tone, "H-how did you know?" My helmet is still on, what could have possibly given the human an inkling of who I was?

"I know that green pendant anywhere," he simply answers, eyes anchored on said item. I instinctively cover it with a hand, hiding it from everyone's sight.

Ever since his confession, it has been around my neck, to be a reminder of who awaits me back home after the war is finished. Slightly embarrassed, I shift my gaze to the Emissary urging him to spare me the unpleasant tension.

"You know her?" He inquires his fellow compatriot, lost to the event that loosely ties us.

"Site A, post-loss of Expedition Six."

"I see."

Reading his face for grievances, I find none, only a facade that hides what he desires. "In any case, that's all in the past. We're on thin ice as it is with our situation here. So I assure you, the last thing we want is to dig up old grudges."

"We understand," Sephra announces, "please do show us the way towards our lodgings."

"Okay then, follow me," the unnamed, but familiar human says. Paving the way forward, he leads us away from the land strips and further into the fortress. High above in their domain, countless stars drape the vale with their gentle glow, unsung sentinels of the night that I can only look onto for comfort and little else.

"...still nothing on open frequency, we can't reach Cygnus with this power configuration," a human voice says, indecipherable with their native tongue. The English language, Myandra says they mostly speak.

I center my sights upon the Rift, now closer then ever before. "Continue trying, at least we're doing something." The oddity is barely further than an arm's length to the touch, emitting a cold aura like that of the northern continent.

Strange metal artifacts surround it, shaped for purposes unknown, birthing coils of black rope that led to destinations beyond my perception. Warriors and what could possibly be their version of Lore Savants drift by my vision as I walk, regarding my presence with a knowing glance.

The silent trail continues with a pensive touch to it. For what awaits us in the future, the stars above will serve as distant observers to our journey through life.

We stop along the outer lit borders of their base, facing a sturdy build of shadowed grey. Its alluring aesthetic eludes my attempts to describe it, leaving me to simply stare at the place that would serve me for the coming days.

"This is where you'll be staying, it's fully vacated with plenty of comforts to spare." Inner lamps flickering to existence, the building staves off the night's veil with an ease that is to be commended.

"I need to look inside, to see of course," Oswin decides, muttering more words of secrecy as he looks away from us.

"Agreed." Though it irks me to admit it, even I have to agree that these people are more versed than us in certain fields of craftsmanship.

"Please go ahead."

A single door to provide entry, the first glimpse to what lies within. I find the will to move forward after the human extends a hand towards the lodging, eyes ever watchful for what lies inside.

"What is the name you go by." My comrades follow alongside, even as I stop to mutter the sudden question at the human.

"Richard Gotthold, and yours?" the human catches up to me, standing to my side with the question to herald his curiosity.

I remove my helmet, showing my face as I give my name. A matter of respect to another, no matter how fleeting their paths may cross. "Inora Ver'Riya."

I give my comrades a quick look, "Go inside without me, I desire some answers."

With a parting nod Oswin proceeds onward, back turned on me. "Very well, spirits guide you." The rest follow in his footwork, leaving me with Richard.

The stern tension follows through to my words. "Do you know a warrior by the name of Jerome," I ask, eyes peering over Richard's shoulder, almost expecting to see the elite warrior appear.

"Why?" A single word, a question as well as an answer.

I blink my eyes, averting my gaze side ward. "Many things, the words we still left unsaid to one another."

"You won't see him here, not for the next few days at least. I don't know if I'm allowed to say where he is exactly, that's all I can give you."

I relent after a short pause. "Okay then." Even if they claim to harbor no secrets to us, even that has its limits.

With these parting words, I excuse myself to join my scouting group inside, spending the rest of the evening discovering the things the humans seem fond of. It is one thing to see it, and another entirely to use it to my heart's content.

Lights to command with a tiny lever, instead of a glowstone jewel. Water taps powered by anything but crystal motioners. And beds that are... admittedly satisfactory, unlike those in the garrison.

And to think this building has everything it requires to be rightfully called a respectable household, all without the aid of crystals or magic.

They really are not of this world.

===End===

Love is the death of duty, or so the saying goes
Both choices work, and no one should be faulted for choosing either

-Second Lieutanent, Jerome Simmons